Runaway Fantasy Pt. 02

Mike: "This hole of yours. It's so fucking wet and tiny. It's like nothing I've ever seen."

I'm trying to process what that means, and then I see his head move in and his tongue come out. Oh my god he's going to lick me.

And as soon as his shockingly warm tongue makes contact with my vagina, I feel the most amazing tingling sensation shoot off throughout my entire body. It's as if he touched my crotch with a magic wand and caused a mystical pleasure spell to be cast all over me, dancing sparkles and all. It's the most incredibly paradoxical combination of both stimulation and relaxation, it's borderline indescribable.

And in addition to the wonderful physical sensation, it's also a total mind trip. I mean, I can't believe he's actually licking me! Like he's eating my vagina! And even though I can't see his mouth, from the way his eyes are wrinkling, I can tell he must be smiling while he's doing this. Is it possible he could be enjoying this as much as I am?!? That seems hard to believe, but it's amazing either way.

He's licking me all over. From my inner lips, to my outer lips, to all the way up top where my clitoris is, Mike is moving around hitting every possible spot, and it all feels great in different ways. Next, I feel him use his hands to pull me open even wider than he had before, and now I think he's actually trying to stick his tongue up my opening. I can't believe he's doing all of this, but I also can't help but worry about how I taste.

I guess I have to assume I taste okay, because he's licking me with such passion. He's also making some subtle, but satisfied moaning noises, too. But as great as it feels to know he finds me attractive enough to want to taste and even consume my most intimate parts, I think the physical sensation of what he's doing is the most amazing part of all.

He's focusing now mostly on my clit, and as his tongue goes around and around, I have no choice but to close my eyes and just focus on the pure bliss washing over me. It's a vaguely familiar sensation, as it reminds me of when I would lie in bed at night and touch myself, but only 10 times better. Actually scratch that, it's more like 100 times better.

The best metaphor I can think of is to imagine that whenever I would masturbate, it would be like riding a bike. I could get to where I wanted to go, in other words have an orgasm, but I would have to do all the peddling myself. And while riding a bike isn't exactly a thrill ride, it's definitely better than walking, and it would get the job done.

But this, what Mike is doing right now with his tongue, this feels like what riding a motorcycle must feel like! (I wouldn't know as I've never ridden one) So instead of peddling myself on some ordinary bicycle to get to where I need to go, I'm holding on to this speeding motorcycle for dear life. It's as if the wind is whipping through my hair and I'm flying towards my destination faster than I ever knew possible.

It's unbelievably exhilarating, but it's also a little bit scary and intimidating because I'm not in control of anything. My heart is racing, but I've never felt more alive. And that finish line I know so well from my bicycle trips? I can already see it up ahead, and we're moving so fast it's going to be here in no time.

Oh I've been there countless times before, but I've never approached it like this, so I grab ahold of Mike's head and hold on so tightly, I'm a little worried I might be hurting him. But he keeps furiously licking, and my metaphorical motorcycle flies right on through that finish line. And it's at this point I realize how this race is unlike anything I had ever been apart of before. Not only is there a huge crowd at the finish line, but they erupt in cheers! And as they do, I let out a loud, deep moan of complete and total satisfaction that I didn't even know my vocal cords were physically capable of.

It's an unbelievably euphoric feeling, but something feels off. Why isn't my motorcycle isn't slowing down? I'm assuming it's because Mike's tongue hasn't stopped moving? In fact if anything, I think he's licking me even harder and faster than before. Doesn't he know it's over? Couldn't he tell that I just orgasmed?!?

Is it possible this ride's not actually over? But if we already crossed the finish line, then why are we still racing? This motorcycle is now going faster than ever, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I can't jump off, I can't slow it down, so all I can do is keep a firm grip on Mike's head and hold on for dear life.

And then I see it. There's another finish line up ahead! A second finish line?!? Is that even possible? In all my times of bicycling on my own, once I crossed the proverbial finish line, that was it. I was done. I never once even thought about trying to keep peddling to find a second line. But holy cow, now that I'm flying down this road, not only can I see there's another finish line, but it's it's coming up so fast... and oh my god it's even bigger than the first one.

There's an enormous grandstand and way more fans than at the first line. On top of that, they're holding signs and going crazy screaming my name. We blow through this line faster than ever, and as we do they shoot fireworks off into the night's sky.

Me (screaming): "Ohhhhhh fuuuuuuucccckk!!!!"

My eyes are closed, but I'm turning my head from side to side to bask in the glory. I don't know what that first finish line was, but it's clear this second one was the actual end of the race. And there's no doubt I won. I've never won so hard at anything in my life.

A few seconds pass, and I feel Mike gently lift up and separate himself from my exhausted genitalia. I'm too tired and overwhelmed to open my eyes, so all I can do is lie here on the bed with my arms and legs splayed out in every direction like some kind of blissfully immobile starfish.

I'm in absolute heaven, as there isn't a sliver of a doubt that this was both the greatest physical sensation of my life, as well as the most satisfying emotional connection I've ever made with another human being, all rolled into one.

And then I feel Mike's unbelievably soft hand come down and start gently caressing my face. I barely even noticed him join me on the bed, but he must be right next to me now. I can sense his warm breath just in front of my mouth, which is immediately followed by his lips touching mine. I turn my head towards him and kiss him back. God, this is perfect.

While we share this quiet smooch, I feel Mike's fingers start to move from my face, and proceed down my neck, across my clavicle and into the spot between my breasts. His two or three fingertips briefly dance around just over my heart, before abandoning that spot so his entire hand can take a firm hold of my left boob. He gives it a pretty tight squeeze at first, and then starts kneading it around in his palm. In some ways, you could probably describe the forceful way he's touching my breast as groping, but I am so content to let this man touch me or grope me or fondle me as much as he could possibly want. He deserves it.

In fact, as he's touching my boob, I arch my back slightly just to push what modest chest I do have, out just a little bit more. Mike responds by placing his other hand on my right breast. And as he clamps down on both of them, I feel him start tweaking and playing with my nipples, too. I love so much that my body apparently turns him on, and at this point I couldn't imagine saying no to anything he wanted to do to me. I want him to have me in every conceivable way.

As Mike continues to fondle me, I notice my mouth opens up and I start to breathe a little heavier. But all of the sudden, I feel him get up off the bed, leaving me here still spread out on the covers and completely naked.

My eyes remain closed, as I don't feel like opening them is worth the energy, but I do hear Mike up and around the hotel room doing a few things. I hear him in the kitchen at one point, and a little bit later I'm pretty sure he goes into the bathroom. I feel like I'm starting to drift off to sleep, so I'm not sure how much time passes. But eventually, I get the sense that Mike is nearby, so I finally muster up the strength to open my eyes.

When I do, I confirm that he's standing right next to the bed where I'm lying, and just like me, he's still naked as can be, but he's got the most pleasant smile on his face. But then I notice that he's also holding his phone in his hand. At first it seems like he's reading something on it, but then I realize that nope, I think he's taking pictures. And then I confirm... yep, he's definitely taking pictures of me.

Why is he taking pictures of me? I'm naked, splayed out on the bed, and oh my god, I had totally forgotten, but I must still look so terrible! My hair! The mascara all over my face! I'm sure I look like a disaster.

Me (squinting while struggling to speak): "I look horrible..."

Mike (smiling): "I completely and whole-heartedly disagree."

Me: "No... don't do that. Don't take pictures. Why are you taking pictures anyway?"

Mike: "Okay. I'll stop. I just wanted to capture this moment."

After he says that, Mike lowers his phone so I close my eyes and exhale, exhausted after all that speaking. I then feel Mike rejoin me on the bed and cuddle up next to me.

Mike (softly): "You look so fucking sexy right now, I just didn't want to ever forget this image. But we can discuss it in the morning and I'll delete the pics if you want me to."

Me (very quietly): "Thank you."

And then I feel Mike pull the covers out from under me before placing them gently overtop. If I was ready for sleep before, now that I'm actually wrapped up and under this wonderful comforter, I figure I have mere seconds before I'm going to drift off. But before that happens, I feel Mike hop out of bed to turn out the lights, before promptly returning right next to my side.

I snuggle up next to him and he responds by wrapping his strong arms completely around me. I've never felt safer or happier in my life. But as we're holding each other, I can't help but notice he's poking me in my upper thigh, so I reach my hand down to investigate and without even fully realizing what I'm doing, I end up grabbing the culprit, his hard, fully erect penis.

Mike lets out a soft moan and kisses me on my forehead.

Me (faintly): "I wanna make you come."

Mike (whispering directly into my ear): "You're so sweet."

Me (breathlessly): "You deserve it."

Mike: "Maybe tomorrow. But I really love how much you want to please me."

Me (with my absolute very last ounce of energy): "I love you."

I know how ridiculous it is that I just said that, but this time I don't care. Last night I may have said it by accident, but this time I actually mean it. I feel Mike respond by giving me yet another kiss on my forehead, while I let go of the boner in my hand, and that's the very last thing I remember before falling asleep.